


Catch Me Like A Cold

by brokenspaces



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, F/F, Forbidden Love, Homophobia, Human AU, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Romance, Royalty AU, Secret Relationship, Thief AU, Unrequited Love, taking a break from my other story to write a fluff piece, then it got out of hand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 20:43:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17291081
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenspaces/pseuds/brokenspaces
Summary: When the crown princess of Goldcliff catches the most wanted criminal in Faerun wounded and prone, she has every opportunity to finally lock her away for good.So why doesn't she?





	Catch Me Like A Cold

The Raven was known as one of the most wanted criminals in Faerun, and the Goldcliff army was determined to catch them. Crown Princess Hurley was leading the pack as they followed the figure riding ahead of them. It was a good thing that her companions were used to her antics, because the nearly manic, adrenaline-fueled glee would have been most upsetting on a lady of such royal prestige as herself. 

She was always more acclimated to the work of a soldier, and if she wasn't the heir Captain of the Guards Captain Bain would have let her take his place long ago. Her horse pulled ahead of the others until they were all out of sight, lost in the forest. The foliage around her got thicker as she pressed on, growing so dense that she had to abandon her horse and continue on foot. 

Hurley crept across the forest floor, eyes darting at every crunch of a leaf. She knew the skill of the Raven, so she’s surprised when the sound of labored breathing comes not a minute after she left her horse. Her heart pounds in her ears. Call her brutish, but the thrill of the hunt has always been especially enticing to her. Just as she caught sight of the edge of a feathered mask, something whirled past his face and straight into the tree behind her. Hurley whirled around to see a dagger sticking out of the tree. As she turned around, she heard a great rustling and then a silhouette was stumbling off into the woods. It wasn’t graceful in the least bit, but they were still fast. Hurley raced after them, tackling the figure easily. 

“Don’t move!” She easily twisted the Raven into a solid hold against the ground, straddling the criminal’s waist to keep her down. It was definitely a her, and Hurley tried not to blush as she was suddenly very aware of the Raven’s position. 

“Is that the little princess I hear?” she said in a taunting voice. Hurley suppressed a shiver, but the strained edge to her voice wasn’t lost on Hurley. 

To the Raven’s credit, she was a pain to pin down, struggling and not letting up. “Fuckin’-- I said, don’t move!” Hurley shoved the woman down in a last attempt to get her to stop squirming, eliciting a ragged cry from her that sounded like it was much worse than Hurley intended. She felt something sticky where her bare arm pressed against her side, and a copper smell permeated the air. The moon finally emerged from behind the clouds, and Hurley got a good look at her prey. Most of her body was clothed in thick black material, but her hood and signature mask had fallen off in the struggle. Black hair fell against dirty skin, pale from a life in the night. Her lips were dry and cracking, blood dripping from between crooked teeth. Her dark eyes were very carefully blank. As more moonlight filtered in through the trees, a jagged wound glistened right at the Raven’s side, probably from one of the loose arrows they were firing. To her horror, the thief gave her an apathetic smirk.

“Like what you see, princess?” Her snide quip was cut off by a suppressed groan, head lolling back. “Oh, fuck. You going to arrest me or not, short stack?” Hurley didn’t answer, just fumbled for her pack and pulling out a roll of cloth. The Raven looked down as the princess knelt down into the dirt to wrap up her wound. “What happened to dead or alive, Highness?” 

“Shut up, you’ll over-exert yourself,” Hurley said flatly. As important as detaining the Raven was, Hurley never liked killing criminals. The Raven was wanted, yes, but she was also just a burglar. She would occasionally knock out a guard or two, so a thief at worst. She heard the heavy footsteps of her fellow soldiers approaching, and Sloane began squirming again, grimacing with pain. Her eyes flashed with something that seemed akin to fear and pain as she took advantage of Hurley’s gentle handlings. As Hurley fought against her, she found it hard to believe that this wounded, scared woman underneath her was the most wanted criminal in Faerun. 

She made a decision.

“Shut up and come with me,” she hissed. Helping the woman to her feet, she stowed her behind a bush, hastily piling up the leaves to make a natural camouflage. “Stay still.” was the last thing she said before turning to the men approaching.

“Your Highness, did you find her?” The moon ducked behind the cloud again, and Hurley made use of the darkness to hide her guilty face.

“Uh, no. I do believe I saw her go this way, but I’m sure it’s a dead end. You guys can go back, I’ll just peek around just in case.” The soldiers nodded their heads and walked away. Hurley let out a breath as she heard their footsteps fade away. She ran back to where she hid the Raven, brushing away the leaves from her unconscious figure. As she picked a last leaf out of her hair, she realized she could just turn back now. Call them over, say she found the Raven in the brush, and finally clear away the menace of Goldcliff. But then the Raven shifted in her sleep, curling in on herself, hair falling into her face. 

And Hurley knew there wasn’t any going back.

-

Hurley was pacing outside of the small hut, feeling a little dumb. Why did she even do this? What was she thinking? Oh god, this is a terrible idea, what did I do, how do I--

“You coming in, Highness?” Hurley tried not to jump as the short old man peeked out of the door. 

Merle Highchurch wasn’t the royal physician by a long shot. An army doctor turned religious hermit and supposed senile old man living in the forest. Hurley could admit she thought the same of him until she had a bad fall hunting alone one day and crawled herself over to his hut. He was weird and chill and played chess with her while she rested her splinted foot. He wasn’t cushy and simpering like the other physicians she knew, quick and neat with his work. Merle became her go-to for first aid, and depressingly enough, one of her only friends. 

So she shouldn’t have been surprised when he didn’t bat an eyelash at the crown princess dragging a half-dead renowned criminal into his shack in the middle of the night, just setting her down and starting work. As much as she wanted to, Hurley really couldn’t stay to help, so she had spent the last day silently screaming all through her royal duties and running out of the door the moment she could. But now that she was here…

She followed Merle inside, feeling way more nervous than she thought she would. The fire was crackling cheerily as usual, and a few bowls were steaming on the table. Hurley picked one up, and Merle grabbed another one as they headed into the bedroom.

And there she was. Merle scrubbed off a lot of the dirt from her face and arms, letting Hurley have a much better look at rough skin and a hard set mouth. Her abdomen was bandaged under her clothes, a little red staining the cloth. When she saw Hurley, she sat up.

“Did the old man rat me out alrea-- Fuck!” She sank back down, clutching her side. Merle calmly walked over, adjusting her wraps and handing her the soup.

“She was the one who brought you here, Sloane.”  _ Sloane? Okay.  _ “Kid, could you grab some fresh wraps for me?” Hurley ran out of the room for the rolls, and when she returned Merle was cleaning out the Raven’s wounds. 

“Here you go… uh, hi?” ‘Sloane’ stared at her coldly, the way people did when they saw the crown princess of the most prosperous kingdom racing through the forest covered in dirt and blood. Like she was trying to figure out why and what with the bite of judgment that made her skin prickle. After he finished up tending to Sloane’s wounds, Merle looked between the two of them and got up.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it.” There was a tense moment of silence after Merle left, accompanied by the sound of spoons scraping against wooden bowls. Hurley looked out the window, not knowing what to say.

“What do you get out of this?” Sloane finally asked. 

“Um, excuse me?”

“When I get out of here, is there going to be a little hunting party outside to take me to the gallows? Or is it information you need, because I’m not telling you anything.” Hurley stared at her blankly for a few seconds.

“I’m… not… getting anything?” Sloane snorted, interrupting her.

“So you’re saying that you found the most wanted criminal in Faerun bleeding out and vulnerable, and just decided to help her escape and heal her up on a whim?” Hurley stayed silent for a moment, and Sloane’s dark eyes widened. “No way, that’s bullshit.”

“Erm, no not, uh, not really? I just, uh, I don’t know why. Uh, sorry, I’ll just go now,” she said as she hurried out of the room. Merle wasn’t in the front though, just a note scrawled out on the table.

_ Out to tend to the plants. You’re in charge! -M _

She slumped back into the room, plopping down onto the chair. 

“So, uh, Merle’s out, and I’m… house-sitting, I suppose.” Sloane stared at her for a few seconds, a warmer version of the calculating look she gave her earlier.

“Who the fuck is this guy that he’s got the crown princess of Goldcliff  _ house-sitting  _ for him?” Hurley let out a half-laugh, digging into her stew.

“Merle fucking Highchurch, I guess.” There was a bit more awkward silence as they stared into their bowls, then Hurley grabbed something from under the bed. She heard Sloane shift up, but she relaxed when she saw the board covered in black and white squares. “So, uh, do you play chess?”

-

The next time she visited Sloane, Merle wasn’t in again. Hurley didn’t think much of it, since he knew she was coming and probably thought she would watch the house. She could hear someone humming further into the house. Hurley followed the noise into the back, creaking open the door.

As she stepped in, steam clouded her vision, the source being the tub in the far end of the roo--

“Oh! Fuck! Sorry, I didn’t, uh, hi? Bye! Uh, sorry, I’ll just…” Hurley practically ran out of the room, face burning. She sat in the front, staring at the door and praying for Merle to come back so she could leave, or maybe for an anvil to fall on her head and bury her into the ground. Just as she got her breathing under control again, there was the soft patter of feet behind her and she lit up again. Sloane walke-- well, no. The way Sloane moved wasn’t so much walking as it was gliding, slinking with a certain grace Hurley never figured out how to master as a princess. So Sloane glided across the floor to the stove, where she was pouring something out of a kettle.

“Tea?” she offered, looking across her shoulder. Sloane looked much cleaner, dark hair brushed over her shoulder and white skin glowing with the sheen of skin just washed. She had cleaned her clothes and stitched them back up, but even the patchwork of her black trousers and shirt were soft and free of grime. 

“Uh, yes, please. S-sorry about barging in on you, I wasn’t thinking.” Sloane shrugged, sliding a mug over to Hurley.

“Whatever. So, Merle’s out right now?”

“Yep.” A beat of silence.

“So… why do you spend so much time here? Don’t you have, like, princess duties or something?” Hurley snorted into her tea.

“Don’t  _ remind _ me.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Planning balls, trying on dresses, diplomacy, _courting_ ,” Hurley said the last one with a special kind of disgust. If she had to hear about producing an heir one more time she would explode. 

“Not your thing, huh?”

“Not in the least bit,” she said, and why is she telling  _ the Raven _ this?

“So, what is your thing?” Sloane looked at her again and Hurley tried (emphasis on tried) to keep her blush down.

“Uh, horse riding. Combat. I’m, uh, much better at soldier work than anything. If I wasn’t the crown princess I would one hundred percent be in the army.”

“Says the girl drinking tea with Faerun’s most wanted,” Sloane said with a bitter tone in her voice. They both took a sip of tea.

“Um, what’s your thing?” Hurley asked. Sloane fixed her with a stare. “Besides the whole Raven thing?” 

“Racing, I guess. Horses. A little botany on the side.” She mumbled out the last part. Hurley cracked a smile.

“I brought you to the right place, then. Have you seen Merle’s garden?” Their conversation drifted away to idle chatter until Merle returned with an armful of thorny vines he warned not to touch. 

-

Hurley came back often after that. Her regular visits to Merle, of course, but also a few more in the days between when Merle was out to play chess or drink tea or vent with Sloane. Sloane was serene and undeniably  _ cool _ in a way that Hurley never was. Hurley loved getting her to laugh. Sometimes, when Hurley went over to get some wounds tended by Merle, she would lay down on a cot next to Sloane and they would just talk for hours.

A month in, she was lying on that cot, poking at her own fucked leg.

“You fall off of horses way too much for someone who rides them all the time,” Sloane remarked as Hurley winced.

“Well, I’d think it’s  _ because  _ I ride horses so much that I fall off of them so much.” Sloane laugh-sighed and Hurley mentally fist pumped. 

“Plus, the fall’s probably twice as high for someone as short as you.” Hurley smacked Sloane’s arm, giggling.

“You just think that because you're so fucking tall.” As Hurley settled back down, something fell on her face. She picked it up. 

It was the Raven’s mask. Hurley absentmindedly traced a hand over the feathers and the intricate designs, stroking a finger over the black wooden beak.

“Hey.” Hurley jolted guiltily, the mask dropping out of her hands. “It’s fine.” They fell back into an uncomfortable silence, Hurley suddenly very aware of the throbbing of her leg. “Hurley?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you do this?” Hurley looked over at Sloane, who was staring blankly at her mask. “Why did you take me here to be healed and hide me away from the army and visit me and talk to me and… Well, you get it.” Hurley’s eyes flickered away to the window. 

“Well… I guess… I couldn’t believe that you were a bad person. Something about you, I don’t know what, but I just... couldn’t hand you over.”

“Okay,” Sloane murmured. 

“Can I ask you a question?” 

“Shoot?”

“Why did you become the Raven?” Sloane’s face darkened, and Hurley held out her hands. “You don’t have to tell me, sorry, we could ju--”

“Have you ever been to the bad part of Goldcliff?” Hurley blinked. Sloane smiled wryly at her expression. “Did you even know there was a bad part of Goldcliff? News flash, it’s literally every other part barring the places you’ve been. Our economy is great, sure, but it all goes to the people at the top. Hundreds of people lived in my neighborhood, cramped up in the streets with nothing to their name. I couldn’t stay there without breaking some laws, and I couldn’t get out without breaking some laws. I thought, might as well break those laws actually doing something with my life.” She looked back at Hurley, eyes red. She’d never seen Sloane cry before. 

In those few moments, she realized something terrible.

She loved her.

-

It was like dying and first learning how to breathe at the same time. Hurley fell in love the way that only happens in romance novels, hard and fast and terribly. She didn’t change anything, but it felt like everything had changed. She took more and more risks to see Sloane, sneaking out at night to spend hours talking. On the nights she didn’t spend out, she fell asleep pining desperately over this girl.

Merle noticed, because of course he did, and he brought it up to her as she snuck out for the second night in a row.

“You like her, don’t you?” She froze, started stuttering out excuses, but he chuckled and cut her off. “It’s fine, Hurley. I don’t care.”

“How could you not?” she squeaked, sounding much more nervous than she thought to. “Aren’t there laws or--”

“No, actually.” He held out his hand, showing off a simple gold band. “My husband is a sailor, so I don’t see him very often.” 

Hurley’s mind spun. Her parents wouldn’t be very happy about the lack of heirs, but her sister Julia could easily provide some. No one knew Sloane was the Raven, so if she could pass off as some servant girl…

She floated through princess studies, dreamed through hunts, smiled through courtings. If she could just tell Sloane, then she could… they would… what if…

“Don’t forget the ball tonight!” Hurley nodded blankly. Tonight. She would do it tonight. 

-

Hurley was charging through the forest, hair still coiffed and done, clothes hastily pulled on, satchel on her back. She was winded in a way she usually wasn’t, not by exertion but by tears and panic and oh god what am I doing?

She didn’t see it, maybe she should have, but she really didn’t. She’d known Crown Prince Kravitz since he was a child, and maybe they weren’t friends, but he was always one of the options that her parents loved. 

Maybe she should have seen, when she visited Astral, the servant boy that was always nearby. Taako was his name. They had run away. His mother knew, but for the past few months all anyone heard was that the crown prince had been kidnapped. Then Lord Grimaldis found out. He brought the gossip to the people who’d know what to do with it, and that was that.

It was the only thing anyone heard tonight, and Kravitz was to be disowned, and Taako to be jailed, if they ever found them. Because even if there weren’t any laws, it was still nothing that someone of high status would ever affiliate themselves with. 

And if that meant she couldn’t as well, she supposed she couldn’t live. 

She ran all the way to Merle’s little shack, bursting in a mess. Running away. What a thing. Merle looked up from his seat when she burst in.

“I heard, kid, I’m so sor--” She was already racing to Sloane’s room, bursting breathless through the door. 

It was empty.

“She left earlier tonight. Didn’t say goodbye.”

It was empty. She was gone.

“Do you know why?”

“She was all healed up. I think there was something about no reason to stay.”

It was empty and she was gone and nothing really mattered anymore because she was gone and she didn’t care and  _ fuck why was I so  _ stupid,

There was a feather on the bed. Hurley picked it up and stared. It was pretty and sleek and made bile rise in the back of her throat. She flicked it into the fire as she left.

-

The Raven was known as one of the most wanted criminals in Faerun, and the Crown Princess of Goldcliff was determined to catch her.

**Author's Note:**

> Shameless angst time! I wrote way too much for my other project at one time and my brain exploded, so here's this thing I guess. Hang out with me at escapistcatontheinternet.tumblr.com!


End file.
